Too Much Time, Not Enough Truth
by truglasgowgal
Summary: A chance trip to London, leaves Sydney Bristow reunited with what was once hers – but from a distance – and she begins to face the harsh reality that she might never have had them to begin with.


Title: Too Much Time (Not Enough Truth)  
Disclaimer: I think you all know the drill by now; only those characters I've made up belong to me, the rest all belong to J.J.Abrams and his people yada yada yada…  
Summary: A chance trip to London, leaves Sydney Bristow reunited with what was once hers – but from a distance – and she begins to face the harsh reality that she might never have had them to begin with.

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Truth Takes Time.

So Irina Derevko had claimed anyway. But sometimes there's a little too much time, and not enough truth. That's how Sydney Bristow lived.

In, somewhat, blissful ignorance.

Or rather, that's how her husband and children lived.

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She didn't realize quite how much time had passed until she went to the Theatre in London that night. The date of which she remembers all too well. The timing all too precisely. And the events all too vividly.

There, in the centre of the seemingly vast stage, was her little girl. The darkness of which would have appeared to swallow her up was it not for the single beam of light that shone down to illuminate her tiny crouched frame. The rags she donned for the role and the dirt swiped across her cheeks and hair, not to mention the deep bruise on her eye, were certainly uncharacteristic of her; and yet at such a distance away from the stage, and despite her petite size, and regardless of the costume she wore; Sydney Bristow, in that instant, realized how long it had been since she had seen her daughter.

The youngster, small for her age, belted out every number she was involved in supremely; most notably 'Castle On A Cloud', in which the child shone beyond fathomable belief. And Sydney couldn't have been more proud of her.

So young, and yet so successful.

Credit to which she could claim none. And she couldn't help but feel more than a twinge of jealously when she caught sight of the tiniest of smiles the little girl shot across to the left of the front row when her song ended. A look of pride was sent back to her, one Sydney couldn't compete with – one she'd _never_ be able to compete with.

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Six years had passed since she'd last seen them.

God, six years. Had it really been that long?

As her eyes swept across the front row, taking in each individual, she suddenly realized how little he had changed. His hair was short, like the last time she'd seen him, and just how she liked it, with the top and back spiked up slightly; making him look younger than he really was. But then she supposed his boyish charm also added to it quite nicely.

He was sitting next to him, back straight and eyes fixated on the stage, and Sydney could already tell what a strong young man he had become since their last parting. Then his head spun round, as if sensing her presence, and she caught a glimpse of those startling orbs for the first time since she'd left them. His eyes continued to scour the area where she'd stood moments before, until finally he resented and turned back round. She's seen the look of concern in his eyes then as he watched the sudden movements of their son.

Their.

Miles would never forgive her; she could see it hidden deep within his eyes. Despite his namesake, he was too much like his father.

Faye, however, may have looked like her father, but she seemed all together more her mother's daughter than anything else. At least in Sydney's eyes anyway.

Though, she supposed, she couldn't quite be sure of anything to do with them nowadays – and she wondered if she ever really could. Wondered if she'd ever really felt strongly about them, or whether it was all just an act she built up; to make the event of leaving them easier – it wasn't.

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The show ended and Sydney exited with all the other audience members. She was lingering in the foyer afterwards, when she saw them.

They were standing off to the side, awaiting her arrival, chatting away amicably with the younger's hands moving up and down animatedly, as his enthusiasm for the subject bounced off the walls surrounding them.

And then suddenly they were three.

She ran up to them, a smile spread widely across her features and bound into his arms. He embraced her just as warmly in return, lifting her up before balancing her on his hip, still smiling at her as she began to speak to them both.

Sydney's jealousy reached an all-time high at that moment, knowing that that could have been her. Everything about the situation was becoming all the more painful by the minute, and yet, she couldn't tear herself away.

The noise that had surrounded them previously had dwindled significantly, reducing it to a low murmur of voices from various parts of the large area, they currently inhabited. As a result, without _intentionally_ meaning to, she was able to eavesdrop on their conversation.

At first, her heart swelled as she heard them speaking. It had been so long, she hadn't truly realised how much they would have changed in the time; she didn't even recognize their voices anymore. But despite that, it was refreshing to hear them nonetheless. Liberating, even.

"Daddy, daddy", the little girl's British accent only highlighting her chattering tone further.

"Did you watch it all? Did you see me? What did you think? Was I good? Did you like it?"

The questions bounded at the man at such a speed, Sydney wondered how he didn't feel bombarded by their sudden swiftness, as she rattled all the words off, seemingly, without so much as a breath in between.

However, if he felt that way he showed nothing, for he simply smiled down at the child and, after a moment, answered her calmly.

"Yes, Tana, I watched it all, and I definitely saw _you_", he told her, and she giggled at his emphasis on the word.

Tana. The name mulled over in her brain. Maybe it was a nickname, or the name of a previous character whom she'd played – there could be any number of reason's why he'd called their daughter it.

Their.

"I thought it was a very well orchestrated production and I thought you were so good that you could easily be classed as the star of the show – and of course, with a performance like that, how could I _not_ like it", he finished, smiling at her as he ended.

Sydney actually made a face as she heard him reply. "well orchestrated production", she replayed the words over in her mind, who did he think he was speaking to? – their daughter was seven years' old!

Their.

That word again. She used it constantly, continually, repeatedly. But she had no right to. As she was reminded only moments later.

But apparently, her mocking and scepticism of his answer was unnecessary, as the child simply nodded at all the right times during his response, and the understanding was clear in her eyes, while the smile never wavered.

"Ari, Ari, did you like me?" the little girl's attention suddenly turned to the other male in her company then.

He smiled, reached up and ruffled her hair slightly, before saying, "Of course, T, you were the star of the show, like dad said – you _easily_ outshined the rest of them."

His words brought further joy to the youngster, as her grin widened, and she asked, "Really?"

The boy nodded, "Yup, they ain't got nothing on you, sis – you're far too good for them!"

Her smile touched her eyes, as they twinkled vibrantly in the light, "Thanks, Ari!"

He grinned back at her then, shrugged a little, before responding simply, " S'only the truth, sis."

But the simplicity behind his reasoning, as well as his words, did nothing to dampen the child's spirits – if anything, it merely increased them further.

Watching them then, Sydney realised, it wasn't only a physical distance that stood between them now; it was much much more.

Their.

Miles.

Faye.

Tana.

Ari.

His.

That's what it really came down to in the end.

When they shared their children; when they shared their experiences, their happiness, their love; she was _allowed_ to call them hers. But she'd been gone for so long, separated from them throughout, that she doubted whether she was really any more than a stranger to them now.

No, now they were his. His alone. And as much as it pained her to even think it – she had to wonder whether they had ever really been hers to begin with.

She continued to stand in her newfound spot for a small while longer, revelling in her quiet moment of reflection and the chance to view what was once hers.

Suddenly, she felt another presence beside her.

Panic-stricken she turned, expecting to find him by her side; a smirk firmly set across his features and a witty comment emitting from those slightly crooked, but adorable, lips of his.

"Mommy?" the voice spoke instead.

"Isabelle", she breathed out, relief flooding through her momentarily.

"Mom, are you ok?" the young brunette asked her mother.

She smiled reassuringly, though she couldn't quite ascertain whether her daughter bought the act fully or not, and nodded, "I'm fine, darling."

"Are you sure? You look like you've just seen a ghost", the young woman before her said, worry evident in her slightly furrowed brow – a characteristic she'd inherited from her father, unfortunately.

Again, she smiled, "Not quite, darling, just some people I thought I knew once. But … I was wrong."

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Her mother had been right.

Truth Takes Time.

She had no doubt her truth would come out one day, but for now, the time just wasn't appropriate.

She wondered if it was because of the hurt it would cause _them_, that she felt it was the wrong time; wondered if it was her own fear of rejection – from both sides – that caused her to continually put it off; wondered if it was because she was really a coward, that she continued to put off telling them; wondered if it was because she was weak, because no matter how much it hurt to be apart from them, she knew it could only be worse if she was kept from both, rather than simply one party.

Whatever the reason, she kept silent, and she would continue to keep this silence, until _she_ felt the time was right for it to come out.

She couldn't be sure when that time would be; whether the next day, the next month, or even in the next ten years, but she knew the truth would come to light some day.

There was some truth in her lies.

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And as she put her arm round her daughter and started walking with her out of the Theatre, soon accompanied by her son and husband, a true smile began to grace her features.

The regret she felt for leaving them would always eat away at her soul, but she had been given an opportunity others were not often lucky enough to have; she had been given a chance to see what she had lost, during one of their happiest moments – and because of that, a small portion of joy began to ebb away the guilt, and replace it with the miracle of good-fortune.

But Sydney Bristow was so content with concentrating on what she had been blessed with; she never stopped to think that perhaps others had been blessed with the same gift.

And, as a result, she never noticed the little girl with light blonde hair and clear blue eyes, resting on her father's side, staring after the tall figure with hair the shade of coffee beans and eyes shaped like chocolate almonds, as her smile grew and her eyes sparkled.

The truth would indeed come to light.

THE END.

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**Thanks for reading, please lemme know whatcha thought - comments, good or bad (just not TOO horrible please if you have to flame) are well appreciated!  
Steph  
xxx 


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